


Love Don't Die

by Era_Penn



Series: Through Death We Won't Part [6]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Angst, BAMF Phil Coulson, Established Relationship, Fix-It, Fluff, Healing, Humor, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Iron Taser, M/M, Mischief, Pheels, Pranks, Protective Avengers, Protective Phil Coulson, Rare Pairings, Recovery, Team Bonding, Team as Family, Teambuilding, Tony Feels, passive aggressive Phil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-03-11
Packaged: 2018-01-09 17:23:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 5,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1148773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Era_Penn/pseuds/Era_Penn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In <i>His Cellist</i>, Tony is revealed to be Coulson's cellist, and the two are reunited despite Fury's best efforts.</p><p>This is the aftermath.</p><p>Coulson is... less than happy. Tony won't let the Agent out of his sight, though, while he regains his equilibrium.</p><p>Luckily, the other Avengers are very willing to help get their two friends' revenge.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's What You Do

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter titles from the song "Love Don't Die" by the Fray. Listen [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WptxUWvrINQ).

Tony woke up slowly, at peace.

Why was that?

Why was he so warm?

Did he have to get up? He didn’t want to.

For the first time since Phil had died…

Oh, right, Phil had died.

His eyes flickered open to meet calm blue eyes….

And promptly panicked. Because he remembered waking up, _he was awake_ , he had to be and Phil was _still here_.

“I’m alive.” 

_I’m alive._

He felt tears slip down his cheeks as he buried his face in a warm shoulder, pressing his face into the safety of Phil. “ _I missed you,_ ” he said, in that small, broken voice that he knew Phil hated but couldn’t keep himself from using.

“I love you, too.”

And after three and a bit months, fourteen weeks (ninety-seven days, four hours, seventeen minutes) Tony stopped counting, and just cried. Phil let him, even though he had to be ruining that perfectly tailored suit.


	2. If I Know One Thing...It's That I'm Never Leaving You

Phil woke up the moment Tony had shifted as he began trying to figure out what was going on. Phil loved Tony in the mornings, bleary-eyed and confused, sweet in a way he often wasn’t. He watched warm brown eyes fill with tears before flickering up to meet his and widening in shock.

“I’m alive,” Phil said, reassuring them both. Tony had cried again, and if there was one thing in the world that made the mild-mannered agent furious, it was that. He held the billionaire tight, but his eyes were full of anger.

Someone was going to pay.

“I need a new cello string.” Tony mumbled.

“Which one?”

“The A… and probably the G, it took a lot of use, wouldn’t be surprised if it snapped.”

“I’ll buy you a new set.” Phil winced as Tony’s hand pressed against his wound, and he wasn’t fast enough to hide it before Tony pulled away completely.

“Sorry, I’m sorry, I didn’t think -”

“Tony. It’s fine. Get back here. _Now_.” he added when it looked as though he was going to be disobeyed.

Tony came so fast that Phil wondered… and then he saw his face. Tony had been afraid Phil would disappear while he wasn’t touching him. With a soft sigh, Phil stood up, holding tight to the genius’ hand. “Let’s get some food in you. You look like you haven’t eaten a full meal in months.”

“Haven’t,” Tony admitted. “Just snacks. How the hell did your master assassins know all my favorites, by the way?”

No, face, don’t do that. Blushing was an unacceptable breach of protocol. “I may have mentioned you a bit.” Tony was already acting more like himself, though he was still hesitant, uncertain.

“Oh.”

He had to be burning with curiosity. “Okay, more than a bit.”

“Yeah, he never shut up about you.” a voice chimed in helpfully from above. Tony shrieked and threw the screwdriver in his other hand at the ceiling, promptly pretending he hadn’t, like a cat caught playing. Coulson grinned a little.

“Barton, kitchen.”

“Yeah, yeah, Rogers made waffles.” he informed before slipping away to the sound of Tony grumbling about Hawk-like assholes and their nests.

Coulson smiled, the soft smile reserved just for his love, and watched Tony give a small, hesitant smile in return, brushed with relief.

“I’m so sorry.” Coulson said, without meaning to.

Tony blinked. “But...why?” he asked. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I- I didn’t come back, and I’m sorry.”

“But you’re here now, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” _And I swear, there is nothing that will be able to keep me from you again._


	3. They'll Never Take My Body From Your Side

Tony was breaking his heart, a little.

When he went to the bathroom, his love waited outside for him. When he went out, so did Tony; when he had to lie down and take painkillers, Tony joined him; at meals, or whenever Coulson needed both hands really, Tony pressed a foot up against his anxiously, as though it would disappear.

Tony was following him around with big, brown puppy-dog eyes and a devotion that Phil rarely saw.

“I’m not going to disappear.”

“I _know_ that.” Tony replied, pulling away and trying to hide the panic that the movement caused. Coulson sighed. Tony knew, yeah, but he didn’t believe it.

“You can’t follow me everywhere forever.”

“I can damn well try.” the billionaire muttered, pouting.

How was he supposed to convince Tony that he was there to stay? It had been hard enough the first time.

* * *

Now that Clint was over the shock of Coulson being alive, he was pissed. Really, really pissed. Because Coulson was pissed. Because he had mourned a lie.

Because Tony.

Tony, who wouldn’t let Phil out of his sight. Tony, who almost hadn’t let go so the other man could eat. Tony, who was surprisingly submissive when the other man was around, as he felt safe and calm enough to actually let someone take care of him, to show that he needed taken care of. Tony, who was following Coulson around like a lost puppy. Tony, who had become one of his best friends in the last couple months.

Because Coulson.

Coulson, who had been a friend for a long time. Coulson, who let Tony follow him around, who kept going even though he still had to be hurting. Coulson, who was gentler than Clint had ever seen. Coulson, and that smile so soft it may as well be made of stardust, the one he only gave Tony. Coulson, who had broken mission protocol to tell them about his cellist to make sure that if anything happened, he would be taken care of.

Yeah. Clint was pissed, and from the gleam in Natasha’s eyes, so was she.

* * *

Tony fell asleep against his chest during a movie that night, after ever so carefully placing an ear over his heart. The rest of the team slowly filtered out, giving them privacy. Coulson fought off his own bone-deep weariness, thinking.

Fury was going to pay, friends or not, boss or not. He ran his fingers through brown hair, and knowing Clint was in the vents, on watch with Jarvis, closed his eyes.


	4. I Lose it When You Do

It took a week before Tony could leave Coulson’s side for any length of time, and then only because he was sick of himself acting like a lovesick puppy, because he was stronger than this.

The first time, he had a panic attack and went straight back.

And the second, and the third.

The fourth time, he had a panic attack, but instead of running back to Coulson, he ran to the ‘shop. Jarvis pulled up video, and Tony found his solution. He just kept a screen up in the corner of his eye all the time the first few days, and then most of the time.

As he slowly weaned himself off of Coulson’s constant presence, he realized something. Some emotion was buried, deep beneath the concern and the worry and the grief and the relief.

Something was eating away at his insides, chewing up his heart, rambling about in his mind.

And when he got past the relief, and started feeling like himself again…

It hit him.

_Rage._

* * *

Fury was minding his own business, going through reports, when his screen went black.

Along with the entire SHIELD mainframe. He closed his eyes, briefly.

 _So it begins._ He probably deserved it, really, but he had done what he had to, and he would not regret it. Words flashed across the screens.

WE HAVE A HULK.

Okay, so maybe he regretted it a little.

* * *

“Oh Cliiiint,” Tony called up into the vents from the Room. He knew the archer could hear him, the vents were echoey. Sure enough, three-point-five minutes later, the archer’s head popped out of the vents.

“What’s up, Tony?”

“SHIELD has a security breach. Shame. All their surveillance systems are down.” he said, mournful. “It’s just too bad.”

Clint smirked. “Accidental system failure?”

“Oh, definitely. They’ll never find a trace of the hacker.”

“Well, it’s their own fault if Tasha and I just happen to stroll through, then.” and with that he vanished back into the Nestwork (his odd little nickname for the ducts).

* * *

Tony knew Coulson knew he was up to something. He also knew he wasn’t going to be stopped, because Phil (God, he loved the man) might be even more pissed than him, seeing as how much angrier Phil got when Tony was upset.

But he doubted it.

He wouldn’t actually do anything to cause problems for agents in the field or most of the ops SHIELD had going (he did understand they were on the same side, mostly) but that didn’t mean he couldn’t wreak havoc or get Fury jumping.

Now, what to do…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you've got any pranks you want to see, or specific havoc and chaos.... Well, no promises, but comment it. 
> 
> (Bruce has sneaky things going on in the background, Natasha and Clint like to take out their anger on junior agents, Steve is all righteous anger, and Thor is, well, Thor. Pepper and Rhodes want in on the fun. Just so's you all know. And of course Phil and Tony)
> 
> What should they do?


	5. Don't Let Them Tell No Lie

It escalated quickly. Mostly because somehow someone had gotten to the coffee supplies. All of them. Even Fury’s top secret stash. Now no one knew which were decaff and which weren’t, and only one coffee machine in the entire building was still in good working condition, and as any self-respecting spy knows…

Bureaucracies ran on coffee, and SHIELD base was definitely a bureaucracy.

Four different agents ended up in medical after an altercation that morning. One of the junior agents had managed to get hold of the good coffee and brewed a pot. He then poured himself a cup and quickly walked away, which was good. He didn’t end up in medical. The four agents behind him in line, all of differing rank and talent, had a full-blown showdown over who got the remainder of the pot. The injuries included, but were not limited to: seventy-three stitches, two fractured wrists, a sprained ankle, black eyes, assorted bruises and broken bones, mental trauma, and third-degree burns.

From there, it only got worse. Fury knew very well that switching the coffee was a minor infraction in comparison to the coming days, and he was right. He was going to need the coffee to deal with it. A LOT of f***ing coffee.

“Coulson.” the man on the other of the line answered.

“I need coffee. Stat.”

“Well, sir, you will need to fill our requisition form 11Ac, P30B, CC4, and deliver them to requisitions. When they are approved, you will be required to further submit forms 445-110d, 44-5-4e, and -”

Fury hung up the phone, remembering why he made a goal not to piss the man off. Coulson was the paperwork king.


	6. Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I'm still not happy with it, but I hate to keep you waiting, so here you go.
> 
> For l33t translator, go [here](http://www.jayssite.com/stuff/l33t/l33t_translator.html).

Junior Agent McClanahan twitched, glancing up.

“Eyes on your targets!” her S.O. roared.

“But, sir, there’s something -”

“The vents make weird noises sometimes, McClan.” The man said. “Now, EYES FORWARD!” With a sigh, she returned her gaze to her target, ignoring the slight vibrations coming up through the floor. This part of the helicarrier was very close to the engines, after all.

She heard an explosion in the distance, and suddenly the temperature was plummeting.

A long moment of silence.

“SOMEONE GET THE TEMPERATURE REGULATOR BACK ONLINE! AND FIGURE OUT WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED!”

* * *

The helicarrier operated in high altitudes and on the open ocean.

With the heater broken, it was a little chilly. A little. Everyone huddled around space heaters, wrapped in blankets and sweaters and jackets and coats and emergency blankets. Except Fury, who was, apparently, impervious to the cold.

(The junior agents had a betting pool going on whether Fury was that awesome, or if he somehow had heating coils in his suit, because the temperature gauge read -3F last time they had checked.)

And to top it off, the coffee machines still weren’t working, and the noises in the vents were getting stranger and stranger.

* * *

Fury was beginning to wonder if Stark had a mole on his Helicarrier, because there was... _something_ in the vents. He just didn't know what yet.

And someone had to have planted it.

* * *

It had only been two days when one of the junior agents that finally snapped, in the firing range, listening to the scuttling that had been haunting them for the last day or two. He was suffering from severe caffeine withdrawals and a nasty cold, and he'd watched a horror flick shortly before takeoff.

"YOU'LL NEVER TAKE ME ALIVE!" He shrieked, and shot a hole in the vent.

Dozens of tiny mechanical spiders rained down on the other trainees in the room before vanishing as quickly as they'd appeared, leaving only the screams of the damned behind as a warning to the others...

* * *

The spiders wreaked havoc. Very few people in the world actually like spiders, and SHIELD agents were no exception to that particular rule of the world. It was even worse because these spiders were intelligent. Fury honestly was wondering if he could requisition some after this whole fiasco was over.

Probably not. Stark kept all the best toys for himself.

The spiderbots turned off computers just before the user hit save, shut down entire systems for minutes, or hours, at a time; mixed up paperwork, gave off delicious scents such as coffee, swapped signs on men and women’s toilets, opened all the fresh food (leaving SHIELD on military rations), tied shoelaces together, and projected holographic, demoralizing signs on agents’ backs for hours before they’d even notice their hangers-on.

And no one had managed to kill one yet.

Nick Fury spent an entire afternoon walking around with a spider on his coat, projecting a holographic sign that simply read “That’s CAPTAIN Jack Sparrow”.

“SOMEONE GET THESE MOTHERF***ING SPIDERBOTS OFF MY HELICARRIER!”

* * *

When they actively started trying to get rid of the spiders, that was when things got interesting.

(Not that it hadn’t been amusing to see men laying flat outside the restrooms with high heels up their - well, you get the idea. SHIELD women were badasses.)

Because suddenly, only a select few agents who had been dealt punishment details for gaming during work hours could read anything the computers said. Messages such as:

“HahA phURy 83T j00 ka'NT 3v3N R3AD Thi2” and “8OO8132” began popping up on screens at all the worst times. The gamers, miffed that their previously “useless, waste-of-time skills” were suddenly in demand, began bargaining for pay raises and release from punishment detail, prolonging the whole ordeal. Fury had to call in seven sixteen-year-old boys for an outrageous fee to get anything done once all of the text on all of his systems except high-priority danger missions had been changed to something called “4|)\/4|\|(E|) |_EE75PeE/" or advanced leet speak, whatever that meant. The sons of some of his top agents, they were insufferable, and Fury had a running suspicion that at least one of them was being paid by Stark to sabotage any of the others' efforts to fix things, as it only got worse.

Then the music started. Spiderbots would hide along doorframes and, whenever specific agents walked through them, start playing obnoxious pop songs at the top of their little radio volumes. Fury got the Darth Vader theme, which was oddly appropriate. Agent Bryant, the Galaga Guy, got “Back in Black”, which, okay, what? Maria Hill got “Stayin’ Alive”. Any junior agent to grace a doorway got some song called “Love Don’t Die” which was oddly appropriate considering exactly what had led to this whole disaster.

Any female agent got various renditions of “Call Me Maybe” which was a bold, bold move.

Eventually they managed to scare off the doorway spiderbots, mostly because there wasn’t much of a doorway left in most locations.

That was when the elements song began playing perpetually in the vents.

“...There's holmium and helium and hafnium and erbium, And phosphorus and francium and fluorine and terbium…”

The science and tech staff loved it. Everyone else? Not so much.

* * *

Fury was beginning to notice a theme. None of the issues that had plagued the helicarrier seemed to upset the gamers on his staff, and one in particular had managed to reprogram his computer to its original settings and get a hold of a good supply of coffee.

“Send Josh Bryant down to my office.”

* * *

Josh Bryant, also known as Galaga Guy for holding the all-time high score on the SHIELD private servers, knew that this was coming. However, he had an excellent bargaining chip to keep himself out of trouble.

He was literally the only person on the helicarrier with whom Tony Stark was willing to carry out negotiations. And the only one with a solid supply of coffee and a private coffeemaker. Thus, he made two mugs of very good coffee, one for himself and one for Fury, and made his way to the director’s office as the helicarrier began its landing sequence. They were to make landfall; no one could handle the Helicarrier anymore.


	7. Part 3

Coulson did NOT want to know what had Tony giggling maniacally in the corner with Clint and, surprisingly, Bruce, for the better part of the last three days. Really, really didn't want to know. He really wanted to claim plausible deniability later.

He couldn't really claim surprise, however, when he was requested by his lover to write up a contract for Fury to sign to end what he called the “Love Don’t Die” Stage One: Helicarrier Defunct. Phil smirked. He was more the passive aggressive sort, and he could write a killer proposal. They didn't get all of their demands, but they got quite a few, including but not limited to: an agreement never to lie to the Avengers Initiative about the continued existence of one of its members, including handlers; free coffee for Tony Stark in any SHIELD facility in the world; fanboy/girl Fridays, for those Agents so inclined to show off their favorite fandoms; and an official gambling staff to oversee the betting and payment that occurred between agents, particularly juniors, in relation to (a) the Avengers (b) their missions and ( c) upper management of SHIELD.

The look on Fury’s face was priceless, especially when he realized Agent Bryant was the only one Tony Stark would negotiate with.

Oh, and when Tony had thrown out that last line to the director on his way out the door.

“Well, that settles out disagreement, Director. Of course, I can’t say as much for the other Avengers - they are their own people after all, and Clint and Romanov seemed pretty pissed - oh, and Bruce had an odd look on his face - but I, at least, will not be bothering you for this mistake... for now.”

Phil sighed dreamily and rolled over on top of his bed partner. “His face.” he stated blandly, and just those two words had Tony laughing under him until silenced by a mouth on his and a quiet groan.


	8. And They'd Better Know Why I'm Gonna Make 'Em Pay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clint and Natasha get in on the fun, with a bit of shadowy assistance from a scientist to tended to get a bit green when angry.  
> Title taken from "Licence to Kill" by Gladys Knight.

Everyone wept with joy the moment they entered SHIELD HQ. The scent of high-grade coffee wafted through the vents, the scent fortifying them. Good, Natasha thought where she lingered in the vents. They’ll need it.

“Widow to Hawkeye. They’re in position.”

“Light ‘em up, baby!”

She would let him off the hook just this once, because this moment was possibly the best moment of her career. SHIELD agents began racing forward, desperate to find the source of the smell, and she hit a switch. Electricity raced along the copper wires, filling the hallway with flickering terror as the lights came on. The entire hall (and most of the next) was spiderwebbed with them. Bruce had helped with the technicalities; she was sure he was curled up in his lab with a cup of tea, sniggering. The man was a brilliant closet troll.

Oh how she loved the sound of whimpering junior agents in the morning. Agent May and Ward had already made it through, but the other senior agents yelped as they bumped wires and spasmed, crashing into more wires. It was really Fury she was pissed at, but collateral damage happened on important missions. Just when they thought they were through they’d hit more, to be triggered by Hawkeye.

“Hawkeye to Widow. Triggering stage 1.1 in three… two…”

“AAAGH!”

* * *

“Widow to Hawkeye. Stage two initiation in progress.”

“Copy that, Widow.”

She _liked_ stage two. She had Bruce to thank, once again. After all, he was the one that supplied them with the industrial-grade, home-manufactured itching powder. Natasha was finding that she quite enjoyed having a friendly scientist she could trust around.

Agents floundered left and right as they began receiving bombardment from above in the form of NERF arrows and cloth-ball hand grenades. “I’d suggest holding your breath!” Clint laughed from somewhere in the vents across from her location behind the wall. Natasha smirked as the agents began scrabbling desperately at their clothes, scratching and whimpering. She took a sip of her coffee as they raced away. 

“Stage 2.1 and 2.2 primed.” Clint said smugly from above.

“2 point...?” Natasha asked. They hadn't planned anything else as a part of this stage, that she was aware of. And then she realized how they’d laid out the electric webs, leaving a clear path to only one area of the building. “Barton, what did you do to the showers?”

Maniacal laughter was his only response.

* * *

Clint slipped through the vents. He hadn't had this much fun since the extended medical leave Fury had forced him to take six months into his career as an agent. He’d never had enough time to accomplish the feat again, but this might be even better.

Carefully he lowered himself to a perch in the shower corridor and beamed at his handiwork. Eighteen of the twenty available shower units had been converted into one massive fish tank containing the biggest shark he could manage on such short notice. The two on either end of the room were free.

The agents were so desperate to be rid of the itching that they piled into the showers several at a time, drenching themselves in water that did nothing to help. Because Clint had gotten into the main water lines. With purple dye Bruce had aided him in creating so that it wouldn't come off for at least a week. And would just make the itching worse.

He loved scientists.

Grape and lime colored agents doing gorilla impressions came pouring out of the showers, shrieking their dismay, as their fellows moaned and wailed their misery. Clint was only disappointed he couldn't get to Fury’s private shower.

“красивый,” Natasha murmured, voice full of joyous awe.

“Why thank you.” he replied.

“Green is a surprisingly devious trickster.”

“Indeed.” Clint smirked. “Is the next stage in place?”

“Roger.” A new voice came over the comm. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

* * *

The now frightened agents in purple and green cautiously followed at the back of the pack, gun shy. Natasha smirked. “Did I tell you about stage 3?”

“Did you?”

“No. Watch.”

Clint watched. And watched. And saw the initial flare of panic on a few agents’ faces as they stopped in their tracks. Slowly the epidemic spread until fifteen agents were panicking in place, unable to move. Clint whistled. “How’d you manage that?”

“Sticky trap set off by certain weight requirements. Green is a genius.”

Clint was somewhat worried he’d die from lack of air long before his laughter exposed his location, watching the agents trapped in place wriggle and writhe and shriek like drenched, dying, trapped cats.

* * *

Stage four was simple, but incredibly effective. The agents were finally allowed to reach the coffee machine, only to see Steve Rogers filling a cup to the brim with delicious, caffeinated, gourmet coffee. He turned, giving them an oh shucks smile. “Sorry,” he said, “There’s only one more cup…”

There was a long, long silence as the exhausted, traumatized agents tried to decipher that outrageous comment. The coffee pot was full, so why…

There was only one more cup.

THERE WAS ONLY ONE MORE CUP.

Chaos ensued as Steve made his way out of the room, sipping at his coffee, self-satisfied smirk that was never expected to be seen stretched across his face.

Natasha was full-on beaming (which was the most terrifying thing Steve had ever seen) when he ran into her in the hall outside, listening to the screams of agony and desperation filling the room beyond. Even Fury was fighting to get a drop of the coveted liquid. “BARTON, THIS WILL BE GOING IN YOUR YEAR-END REVIEW! DON’T THINK I DON’T KNOW YOU’RE IN ON IT, ROMANOV!”

“Why isn't Steve getting yelled at?” Barton whined.

“Because he’s Steve. No one ever suspects Steve. That’s why we had him lie about the cups.”

Silence as Steve grinned.

“DAMMIT ROMANOV!”

* * *

“Stage five is prepped and ready.”

“As is stage six.”

“Widow, Hawkeye, report.”

“Stage five is replacing all the ink with temporary ink.”

“Stage six is changing the language of all the computers to Russian, and then setting a screenshot of their regular screen as their desktop image and deleting all of their shortcuts.”

“I’m sorry I asked.”

* * *

Natasha smirked as she placed the sticky note, vanishing around the corner as the correct agent passed her going down the hallway. Footsteps slowed, then stopped. Silence.

And then panic.

No matter how many times she’d done it, it was still the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard in her life. It sounded something like this:

“aughGAHeurghmahmommy.” and then silence, usually because the agent in question fainted.

All she did was write their deepest, darkest secret on a sticky note and stick where it could be found, sometimes with photographic evidence. Was that so wrong?

Clint preferred to imply that the agent in question was about to be pranked and watch them fret themselves into medical over a period of days.

She liked both methods.

* * *

The endless stream of pranks (including but not limited to: gift-wrapped desks; knives on chairs - like the thumbtack thing, but the Black Widow flair added; the upside down room - glued to the ceiling for dramatic effect; a very convincing haunting; and contaminating the coffee supplies with decaff, again), along with the continuation of the previous ones and the difficulty SHIELD was having with getting rid of the shark and cleaning up the destruction, eventually led Fury to call Coulson, and for the first time in his life, beg.

“Coulson, help me.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”

“Please, please, PLEASE call off Barton and Romanov.” Coulson didn’t think he’d ever heard the director quite so close to tears before. “And ask them what they did to the computers.”

“I believe you’ll be required to fill out forms 3-9d, 48b and -”

“I DID, and then my signature just vanished, and none of the ink will stay. I’m being buried in paperwork, literally, I am afraid to open my office door, and my best agents refuse to move from their positions.”

Coulson, despite being moved to mild pity, hung up on him.

Fury had hurt the cellist, and there were _lines_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a such a relief to write after a long week of midterms. I cannot even tell you. I hope it brings some delight to your lives; I tried to cater to your prank ideas, and I hope I was successful. Sadly, the pranks will soon be drawing to a close.


	9. Just Listen to What I Do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Clint & Phil & Tony bonding.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the song in this chapter[here](https://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=u57d4_b_YgI&feature=kp).

Tony… actually sort of kind of felt bad. Not for Fury! Just, just for the agents caught in the crossfire. Most of them didn't have a clue what they were being punished for, after all, and…

He just felt bad about it, okay? Natasha and Clint weren't going to listen to him, though. Or he didn't think they would. He was pretty sure they were just using him as an excuse to prank the entirety of SHIELD. They didn't really care about him that much. Or did they? After all, they’d kept him from wasting away too much over the last few months.

“What are you thinking about?” Phil asked from the doorway of the Room.

“I dunno, really.” he lied. “Just… thinking. We should maybe ask Clint and Tasha to stop though. I mean, it wasn't the baby agents’ fault.”

“Oh, so you’re feeling guilty again. It is up to those two to decide when to stop.”

“Mmm,” Tony replied, leaning back into the agent’s arms. “Hey, you know the keyboard part for ‘Better Together’?” He’d noticed that all of his cello (and the guitar, despite having hardly been touched) strings had been replaced while he wasn't looking. He knew the original song didn’t use much piano, but it used enough, and the instrument could be used to cover many of the other missing parts as well, and he liked the guitar well enough.

“Yes.” Coulson replied. Tony regretted the loss of warmth for a moment as he moved away, but the music would fix that. It always did.

“ _There is no combination of words I could put on the back of a postcard  
No song that I could sing, but I can try for your heart  
Our dreams, and they are made out of real things  
Like a, shoebox of photographs  
With sepia-toned loving…_”

* * *

Clint could hear the music through the vents, drawn to it like a moth to flame, and peered through the vent cover of the dark room where Tony had spent so much time. The blinds were up, light shining across the hardwood floor, spilling across the guitar player leaning against the piano, smiling and singing and nodding his head, eyes on the pianist, more full of light than what streamed into the space.

“ _Love is the answer,  
At least for most of the questions in my heart  
Like why are we here? And where do we go?  
And how come it's so hard?  
It's not always easy and  
Sometimes life can be deceiving  
I'll tell you one thing, it's always better when we're together…_”

He knew the bass part of this song (advantages of undercover missions in live-music bars), and he could see one leaning in the corner. Right now Jarvis was covering the missing parts, and he didn’t know if he’d be welcome, but… He blinked as the bass part disappeared. Jarvis, at least, thought he’d be welcome. Clint slipped out of the vents and picked up the instrument, sliding seamlessly into the chorus as Tony jumped slightly, and then grinned.

“ _And all of these moments  
Just might find their way into my dreams tonight  
But I know that they'll be gone  
When the morning light sings  
And brings new things  
For tomorrow night you see  
That they'll be gone too  
Too many things I have to do  
But if all of these dreams might find their way  
Into my day to day scene  
I'd be under the impression  
I was somewhere in between  
With only two  
Just me and you  
Not so many things we got to do  
Or places we got to be  
We'll sit beneath the mango tree now..._”

Clint beamed, glad to be part of this moment, listening to the chorus. He’d known both of them without the other; Coulson, back before he’d met his mysterious cellist, and Tony after he was gone. Yeah. They were better together. Softer, calmer, happier.

“ _I believe in memories  
They look so, so pretty when I sleep  
Hey now, and when I wake up,  
You look so pretty sleeping next to me  
But there is not enough time,  
And there is no, no song I could sing  
And there is no combination of words I could say  
But I will still tell you one thing  
We're better together._”

A ringing silence. “Happy, Never Shout Never?” Clint suggested.

Tony smiled. “Hit it, J!”


	10. Tying up Loose Ends

“Tony wants us to stop.” Clint told Natasha mournfully. “He feels guilty to punish the minions of SHIELD much more for something they had no control over.”

“But I’m having fun.” Natasha stated, sounding every bit like a petulant child.

“We can prank more later, when Tony no longer construes it as his fault.”

“Fine.” She picked up her phone and dialed a number from memory.

“Fury.”

“Director. I am calling a cease-fire. However, should you ever lie to us in this manner again, you will not get off so easy. Any lingering issues are yours to deal with; I will not fix what I have broken. Clint and Banner agree.”

“Oh thank God.”

She hung up, giggling. She thought the director might have actually been crying in relief.


	11. No Matter Where We Go, And Even if We Don't

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to the song [here](http://www.yourepeat.com/watch?v=WptxUWvrINQ&feature=kp).

“You got a drum set?” Natasha asked.

Tony jumped a foot in the air, chords stopping, and sighed. “Yes, I have a drum set. What is it with the band instruments lately?”

“It’s a good song,” Natasha hummed, situating herself. “Start again.”

Tony obliged. There was something missing, he thought. Just his guitar and Natasha’s beat. And Clint, on the bass, he realized as the archer slipped into the melody. But there was something missing.

“ _If I know one thing, that's true  
It ain't what you say, it's what you do  
And you don't say much, yeah, that's true  
But I listen when you do  
A thousand years go by  
But love don't die…_”

Clint’s foot tapped away behind him. _there_. It wasn't until the piano made its way in that he realized what it was, and with a grin, Tony spun and stalked to the piano, still singing.

“ _She can break it up  
She can burn it down  
You can box it in  
Bury it in the ground  
You can close it off  
And turn it away  
Try to keep it down,  
Six feet in the ground…_”

Tony’s voice faltered, and he missed a beat. But only the one.

“ _But love don't die!  
No matter where we go  
Or even if we don't  
And even if they try  
They'll never take my body from your side  
Love don't die!_”

All was right with the world, just for a minute, with Steve somehow managing the tambourine and Thor clapping away in the background.

 _Well, me with a family,_ Tony thought, leaning down to steal a kiss from his world, _who would have thought?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Prequelled. Also, I am including a BONUS work. As soon as the first chapter of that work goes up, I will be taking comment prompts for Phil/Tony moments you want to see. I may or may not fill them all, and they will be in an entirely separate work and may take place anywhere in the timeline, according to my own discretion and likely updated sporadically. It will begin with the breakfast scene - after all, Steve made waffles. NO smut or explicit works, sorry guys.


	12. Bonus: Love Don't Die, the Fray: The Lyrics

If I know one thing, that's true  
It ain't what you say, it's what you do  
And you don't say much, yeah, that's true  
But I listen when you do

A thousand years go by  
But love don't die

If I know one thing, that's true  
It's that I'm never leaving you  
And you don't say much, yeah, that's true  
But I lose it when you do

Don't let them tell no lie  
Love don't die

No matter where we go  
Or even if we don't  
And even if they try  
They'll never take my body from your side  
Love don't die

If there is one thing, that's true  
It's not what I say, it's what I do  
And I say too much, yeah, that's true  
So just listen to what I do

A thousand years go by  
But love don't die

No matter where we go  
Or even if we don't  
And even if they try  
They'll never take my body from your side  
Love don't die

She can break it up  
She can burn it down  
You can box it in  
Bury it in the ground  
You can close it off  
And turn it away  
Try to keep it down,  
Six feet in the ground

But love don't die

 

No matter where we go  
Or even if we don't  
And even if they try  
They'll never take my body from your side  
Love don't die

No matter where we go  
Or even if we don't  
I’d like to watch them try  
They'll never take my body from your side  
Love don't die


End file.
